S is for Sinner, S is for Saint
by Prosper-the-XVIII
Summary: Scars series. What most don't know about Camille Delacoire is she had a son. And now he's learned of where the woman his mother tortured and the man who killed her to rescue the woman now M, nothing will get in his way to make them suffer...


Chaper I: Deja Vu

Her trigger finger poised to shoot at any given or necessary moment, Agent Summer Bonham-Carter, 008, stepped out into the dim light of the long-abandoned warehouse, the dried blood staining the stark concrete floor and the broken chair once used soully to inflict pain on the innocent or those thought to know something they shouldn't sending a chill down her spine. She knew, oh she knew where that had come from. There was no-one she knew better than the woman whose blood was now a permanent part of the flooring. There wasn't enough rain in the whole of England to wash the sins out of this place nor enough wind to rip the nails out of the past, and believe you me when I say that there's a hell of a lot of both in London alone.

Her mother has so near to died in this place, and now as she heard footsteps behind her, she hoped to god that the same fate wasn't about to befall her. She whipped round, sweat dampening her pallid face, braided blonde hair smacking her across the face.. Her hands shook as she attempted to train her gun on the vague spot where the noise had come from in the first place. "H-hello?" Summer tried her level best to sound calm, but with her voice shaking as much as it was, this was pretty damn hard. "W-who's there?"

"Calm yourself, _ma cherie_, ze only ones 'ere are ze two of us," a male voice speaking in bad English with an incredibly thick Parisian accent. A dark figure. For god's sake, was she on a mission or in a bad spy movie?

"Who are you?" She tried to sound firm, but her voice wavered mid-sentence and she sounded as if she were about to cry. Metaphorically, she was cacking her pants. Really, she was just shaking uncontrollably and trying to keep from breaking down in tears.

"Me? Sevrin Delacoire. And you I believe to look somesing like a woman my muzzer used to know. Evelyn Bonham-Carter? Do you know of 'er?"

"Know of her? She's my mother. Are - wait a minute!" Summer cried out as the mess of random thought in her head clumped into something that she could actually make sense of. "You're the son of that bitch Camille who tortured her! You-" Lost completely for words, Summer pulled the trigger now that she had managed to get a decent view of Sevrin. Nothing. She tried again. There was something wrong with the gun. Why wasn't it loaded? What the hell? Her face screwed up in defeated mental agony as she fought back the sob in her throat.

"No tears, please. It iz a waste of good suffering. Which you don't know ze meaning of."

"Everybody suffers," Summer looked forward properly to see him face -to-face with her. He was the spitting image of all the photographs she'd seen of his mother, just male and without the facial scars.

"Oh, not like she did. She was tortured for a year and a half - circumcised, raped, cut to shreds and forced to do 'zings completely in'uman - and zen ze only work she could find once she recovered was as a prostitute for a weirdo with a scar fetish. Unfortunately, my fazer."

"Okay, and how does that justify the torture of my mother?"

"Your muzzer was spying on 'er."

"She was doing her job, just as I should be doing mine if I was in possession of a decent gun."

"Oh, and what would you do? Kill me as just as your muzzer's toyboy killed mine? Or as I'm about to do you?" The last sentence took some time to sink in. Too long, as moments later the sharp agony of a bullet hitting the side of her neck stunned her, knocking her to the floor as she struggled to breathe through her own blood flooding her ruptured windpipe and in effect drowning her. As she writhed on the ground, vomiting pure blood like a scene from a slasher movie and clutching at her throat, Sevrin expertly pulled the microphone from the agent's ear.

"Agent down. Only the first of many to fall. Camille should have lived, Evelyn. M. And I swear I'll get you and James Bond too..."

To be continued...


End file.
